


Have the Lust of the Devil

by ladyofsilverdawn (ladyofSD)



Series: Sweet Revenge [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Clothed Sex, Dry Humping, Fellatio, Humor, M/M, Office Sex, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6710848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofSD/pseuds/ladyofsilverdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry feels both worry and anticipation as he waits for <i>him</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have the Lust of the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [MyFirstistheFourth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFirstistheFourth) for the lovely beta once again!

Harry squirmed in his chair, the intense unease of soon being so near _him_ again, not diminishing the erection in his trousers. Scooping up the same stack of papers for the second time, he again tapped its bottom edge against his desk before setting it down neatly.

About two months had passed since the final battle, and Harry could scarcely believe where he was: in a Ministry office serving as a parole officer, specifically a parole officer for a select handful of pardoned wizards and witches.

A few days into Harry's first week of Auror Preparedness Training, APT for short, Draco Malfoy, one of the pardoned wizards, had wound up in St Mungo's, due to a vengeful attack by the last appointee. Since Harry's testimonies, memories, and endorsements had most contributed to the small group not having to rot away in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, Interim Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt had asked if he would accept the provisional position.

At first Harry had declined, afraid he would get behind in his studies. Not to mention he hadn't wanted to deal with the likes of Severus Snape, who was just as disagreeable as ever. But once Shacklebolt offered to waive the essay requirement, leaving only the practical to graduate, he had agreed. _How hard can it really be_ , he had thought at the time.

Lowering his hand towards his trousers, Harry winced. _Excruciatingly hard_. He adjusted himself to reduce some of his discomfort, moaning in relief and recollection. So far this first week, he had been yelled at, sobbed at, sneered at, and had played the role of both counsellor and cheerleader.

Sighing, Harry plucked up his quill. Dipping its transparent, hollow tip in a jar of black ink, he began doodling on a blank sheet of parchment. A few minutes later, three firm knocks rattled his office door, and Harry's heart leaped in his chest like a chocolate frog unaware of its fate. Hastily returning his quill to its holder, he called out, "C-Come in." He crumpled the marred piece of parchment into a ball, tossing it into the bin underneath his desk.

The door silently swung open, revealing two men: an Auror, who by the looks of him must have had a giant in his family tree, and a shorter, yet still fairly tall wizard in prison garb, the arrogantly handsome Lucius Malfoy.

Thumping Malfoy on the back, the Auror gruffly ordered, "Pick up your feet, Five Thirty-seven," addressing Lucius only by his prison identification number.

Not taking his eyes off Potter, Lucius's upper-lip twitched with amusement. Potter appeared every bit the resolute young professional with his new, tailored robes and neutral expression, but Lucius couldn't be fooled; he'd been playing the game of posturing for much too long. He understood maneuvering: when to bluff, when to retreat, when to cheat, and when to pounce. The delicious long chase. And it had been much too long.

Lucius had spent many a tortuous night wanking to thoughts of Potter, at first in his manor and then his cell. Since that day in the Great Hall, he had only ever seen Potter from afar. Since that day, he had to make due with muzzy memories of Potter's sweet mouth and skilled hands. Every time he was left frustrated, wanting to know more: how Potter tastes, his smell, the sounds he makes when he surrenders to pleasure...

Barely maintaining his aloof demeanor, Lucius shuffled into the office with as much dignity as he could muster. As he made his way, his wrist and ankle shackles clanked to and fro. The lumbering idiot of an Auror closely shadowed behind him until he stopped next to the only available seat in the room.

Harry's eyes darted to the Auror's face and then back to Malfoy's. "I can take him from here" –Lucius raised a brow at his choice of phrase, but Harry didn't blink— "Auror…"

"Unwichtig, sir." The Auror filled in proudly. "Stark Unwichtig."

"Thank you, Auror Unwichtig." Harry politely smiled, indicating the wizard could leave. When Unwichtig saluted him as if he were his superior and not merely a wizard who had just begun Auror training, Harry managed not to grimace from embarrassment and discomfort.

"It's been the greatest honor being able to help you, sir." Unwichtig gave Malfoy a warning glare before turning around and stomping away.

Both Harry and Lucius winced when the door loudly slammed shut due to the Auror's strength.

Harry nervously cleared his throat, keeping his hands affixed to his desk so that he wouldn't fidget. "Mr. Malfoy, please take a seat."

Lucius peered down at the plebeian low wooden stool. Bidding his time, he sat without a word. Once seated, he grudgingly appreciated the fact that he didn't have to sit in a backed chair; it would have been much more uncomfortable, since his wrists were cuffed behind him.

Surprised by Malfoy's docility, Harry relaxed a smidgen. _Perhaps two stints in Azkaban have finally tamed some of the pure-blood snobbery out of him_ , he mused. As he took in Lucius's fit appearance, Harry wondered what else, besides an incredible cock, lay beneath the wizard's faded black-and-white striped uniform…

Face suddenly flaming because of where his mind had wandered off to, Harry decided to jump right in, eager to announce the news. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm happy to inform you that you have been officially pardoned by the Ministry of Magic" —Profound shock appeared on Lucius's face, causing Harry to grin— "The terms of your freedom are as follows:

"You agree that you will aid the Ministry, to the utmost of your ability, with intelligence to help find fugitive Death Eaters.

"You will—" A long incessant screeching sound, ending with repetitive hoots, filled the room. "Excuse me," Harry apologized, reaching for an antique-looking candlestick telephone on his desk, drawing it towards himself.

During Ministry repairs, communications were updated, creating private lines by piggybacking on the magical public address system. No wiring had been involved with its implementation, but it somehow worked—most of the time—and had been dubbed owl calling.

Lucius watched as Potter listened and then nodded his head. "Yes, I'll take his call." After a short pause, Harry's mouth transformed into a genuine smile. "Hello, sir."

Possessiveness surged throughout Lucius's body. He remembered when those lips had been around him, the perfection of it. His member fully hardened with painful, overwhelming want.

A frown slowly formed between Potter's eyes. "Sent this morning…" Leafing through stacks of parchment, he worried his bottom lip. "I'm not finding it… It'll be just a sec." Harry set down the phone receiver, and disappeared under his desk, a few moments later reemerging with a crinkled sheet of parchment.

While Potter uncrumpled the document, Lucius snorted when, on its back, he caught sight of a sketched erect penis—and a very familiar one at that. Hearing him, Harry glanced up and blushed, the alluring color flowing down past the collar of his shirt. While once again holding the unwieldy receiver to his ear with one hand, Potter snatched up his quill with the other and began jotting down notes, humming encouragement as he did. Lucius couldn't wait a moment more.

Malfoy slowly rose from his seat like an interested cobra. Potter, hearing the jangle of his chains, looked up and then stilled. Adrenalin flooded through Harry's veins. His hands started to shake and the rate of his breathing increased, but all he did was watch as Lucius casually slinked around the table towards him. Harry could have easily requested backup or reached for his wand, but instead he continued on as if nothing was amiss.

After bending his face down to Harry's right ear, Lucius didn't say a word. He breathed out a long, hot exhale into Harry's ear, causing the younger wizard to shiver. Lucius then deliberately licked the rim of sensitive skin, forcing Harry to strangle a moan.

Leaning into the mouthpiece stand, Harry huskily said, "Y-Yes, sir. I'm still here…"

With a wicked grin, Lucius turned around. Despite his hands being shackled at his back, he managed to pull out Potter's chair, requiring Harry to stand from his seat if he wanted to continue his phone conversation without needing to shout.

Lucius admired Harry's awkward, slightly hunched over position, the curve of his delectable arse clear to see.

Harry almost bit his tongue while speaking when he felt Lucius suck at his nipple through his shirt. His cock leaked a stain on his trousers, similar to the one Lucius was creating on his chest. When Malfoy unforgivingly nipped at the peak of flesh, Harry loudly uttered an, "Ah—" before having to quickly cover his slip. "—A great point, sir."

Lucius closed his eyes and buried his nose into Harry's clothes as he knelt down, savoring his scent, a heady combination of fresh skies, cedar, and heavy arousal. Potter's voice warbled when Lucius's lips lightly grazed the pre-cum-soaked bulge in his trousers, and he gasped when Lucius's tongue pressed down to taste him. Licking at Harry's salty-sweetness, Lucius didn't bother holding back an appreciative moan; Potter tasted better than he had ever imagined.

"O-Oh, it's nothing sir," Harry stammered, excusing their lusty sounds. "I…tipped over my jar of ink…"

Lucius smiled at Potter's weak lie and nuzzled his cheek against Harry's hardness, wishing his hands were unbound so he could free the straining length but a thin layer of fabric away. Knowing that wouldn't be an option, he opened his mouth and surrounded as much of Potter's cock as he could.

Harry's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth fell open, and he silently exhaled a heavy breath as Lucius's hot mouth sucked at the head of his cock. He felt as Lucius's tongue searched for the valley between glans and shaft. He felt as Lucius firmly scraped his teeth against the cloth confining his length. It took all of his control not to come, feeling a mouth on his cock for the first time, even if indirectly, especially when that mouth belonged to Lucius Malfoy.

"Out of breath?" Harry responded with panic. Lucius's probing tongue made contact with Harry's bollocks, causing him to hiss. "I-I've s-started…exercising at my desk to keep myself in the pink of condition…"

Sniggering as Harry tried to explain himself, Lucius fastened his mouth back around the tip of Harry's cock, cheeks hollowing. Legs about to give out from the tight, hot suction, Harry stepped back, away from his desk, and collapsed into his chair. Lucius, taking advantage of the additional space and Harry 's new position, scooted onto the younger wizard's lower leg and began rutting against his shin, moaning in bliss from the friction against his own aching length.

Needing to answer a question, Harry dropped his quill and, stretching out his arm, snatched up the mouthpiece. "How about next Monday?" He huffed out a raspy breath. _Close_. _So close_. Choking back a cry, Harry quietly writhed in his chair as he began to spurt inside his trousers.

Sucking as much of Potter's seeping release as he could, Lucius continued to rub his leaking erection against Harry's leg, relishing his victory. He glanced up, wanting to gloat, and found Harry looking down at him; chest heaving, cheeks a rosy pink, an anticipatory, mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Silently, Potter mouthed, _Come_.

Lucius stiffened, his body betraying him. Harry's mouth parted as Lucius fell apart, hands locked behind his back, torso and groin sliding up and down his leg. _Completely his once again_.

Soon after Lucius collapsed down on his knees, Harry said, "I'll send up a copy before I leave… Sounds good, sir. Goodbye." Harry hung up and then gently tilted up Lucius's face. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Mr. Potter." Lucius coldly stated, unable to keep the dejection from his voice.

An amused, kind smile slid onto Harry's face. "I believe we must call this a draw."

"A…draw." Lucius considered Potter's words with skepticism.

"You're paperwork was just completed, Mr. Malfoy." Harry flicked his wand. Lucius's manacles vanished, and his walking stick, which housed his wand, appeared on the desk. "You're a free wizard."

"Free…" Lucius's face transformed from dour to joyful as he reached for his cane. "Yes…I do believe you are correct, Potter. A draw."

By the time Malfoy stood up to his full height, he was dressed in clean, smart robes. "Rematch?"

Harry's lips twitched into a grin, and Lucius, knowing his challenge had been accepted, strutted away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to know what happens next, be sure to subscribe to the [Sweet Revenge](http://archiveofourown.org/series/349535) series.
> 
> **Show some love; kudo and comment. :)**
> 
> _Stark Unwichtig_ means "very unimportant" in German.
> 
> Check out my other writing and subscribe on my [dashboard](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofSD/pseuds/ladyofsilverdawn).
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.


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